


why do we bother to stay?

by Anonymous



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Conflict, Gen, How Do I Tag, POV Second Person, Strained Friendships, Suicidal Ideation, better to be safe than sorry, not sure about that last one but like, welcome to trying to figure out what the FUCK blitz's backstory is, who knows? not me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27243901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: contrary to popular belief, you aren't fucking stupid. you know that he isn't the perfect damsel that stories like blitz's always seem to favor. you know- have known this since he was little- there's not a place for people like you in this story.it doesn't hurt any less when he leaves.
Collections: Anonymous





	why do we bother to stay?

**Author's Note:**

> this is,, a PHAT vent fic i'm not gonna lie bro. the title is from the song evelyn, evelyn

* * *

contrary to popular belief, you aren't fucking stupid. you know that he isn't the perfect damsel that stories like blitz's always seem to favor. you know- have known this since he was little- there's not a place for people like you in this story.

it doesn't hurt any less when he leaves. it's not a sentimental farewell. you don't even get the fucking grace of being the childhood best friend or some sort of tragic backstory. your parting words to each other are vicious, a quiet poison that can only be

achieved after years of resentment.

"you're always fucking running," you snarl, flinging a hand into blitz's chest. "this isn't bravery, you're just another goddamn coward to add to the list-"

"don't." it's quiet. a warning, more than anything. he doesn't even spare you a fucking glance. apparently you're not even worth his time anymore. it's difficult to even try connecting him to the excited six year old you knew. 

"what, scared?" you taunt, eyes flashing with an underlying malice. you haven't been able to speak like this for years. you hope it hurts. "this- it's a death mission, blitz, you're not being some sort of goddamn hero! you can't just fucking run when it gets

too hard, you can't just leave us all behind and pretend that you're being the good guy-"

"what? amani, i'm not leaving you behind-" and oh, he's agitated now, hands nested in his hair and coming down with a sharp, violent series of tugs. you might have shelved the topic, once. might have tried to make sure he wasn't hurting himself. now

you almost want to see what happens if he breaks.

"yes you ARE! you run because you're afraid, you run because you can't fucking bear to face the thought of what you did here, you run because you don't want to talk to anyone! what the fuck happened to us, huh? i thought you trusted me, you were

supposed to fucking trust me and now you're going to run out there alone- did we even ever matter to you? do you care? have you ever cared?" you're in his face now, a hand snared around his wrist so hard that your knuckles are pale. you're distantly aware

that you're shaking. blitz stiffens and wrenches his hand out of your grasp, gaze shuttering down into something even colder. 

"you don't know what the hell you're talking about," he bites out. "amani, move. this is your last warning. i don't want you to get involved in this."

"then help me!" you shout. "fucking HELP me understand, tell me what the hell kind of reason has made you so utterly determined to fucking destroy yourself, tell me why you're fucking off into the woods for what could be the rest of your life- i can't be

there if you don't say something! you haven't fucking talked to me for the past three YEARS, blitz. you were supposed to be my best friend, but i might as well be standing next to a fucking stranger. if you go out there you're going, you're going to fucking-"

your voice breaks, but you don't stop. you don't think you can. "- you're going to die."

  
"maybe i should," he snarls. "it's what you'd want, after all. no need to shelter a burden under your roof. just another goddamn fly out of your hair." you take a step back. the room blurs in front of you.

"you- you, you don't mean that," you whisper. blitz doesn't answer.

" _goodnight,_ amani." the door slams shut. you don't cry.

when you wake up, there's a note on the table. you don't even have to read it before you know. you get up and move on with your life as best as you can. you're not going to wait for a fucking elf. (the note stays in your house and collects dust for the next

twenty years.) you don't mourn blitz, not really. he's both dead and not- you don't exactly know what happened to him. you're okay with that, to be honest. the friend you knew died the moment a sword was dropped into his hands. it was only a matter of

time before the rest of him vanished. it doesn't stop you from wondering if he would have stayed if you had loved him a little less. 


End file.
